


eyes are the mirror of the soul

by incredibaek



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Dark Past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Lee Jeno, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Love at First Sight, M/M, Nighttime, References to Depression, Soft Huang Ren Jun, Strangers to Lovers, Tags May Change, Thought Projection, Timeline What Timeline, Underage Smoking, a little angsty but it gets better, again not really, but not really since jeno and renjun are adults here already (still wanted to warn you), characters with changed visuals - eye colour, inception - writing of the story within the story, jeno centred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-11-09 05:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incredibaek/pseuds/incredibaek
Summary: jeno takes a late night trip on an old train.renjun has a lot on his mind to deal with.~ a noren for the best noren writer i know.





	1. meeting god

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peachyun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyun/gifts).

Jeno knows there's no way in hell he's gonna sleep tonight.

The moon outside is barely visible as thick clouds cover it and uncover for seconds as they pass by. The air is chilly but yet not cold; the November weather always brings some sort of internal anxiety to him. Is it scarf weather already? Or maybe still just sweater?

Jeno knows he's overthinking, but on the other hand, when is he not?

The chilly not cold air hits his warm cheeks as he pushes open the door. It's well past two, hardly any cars passing him by as he walks down one of the busiest streets in his neighbourhood. The chill now feels nice against his skin, cooling it down and drying out tears that managed to escape him when he as much as grazed his bottom line tonight.

His feet take him to the train station, old and rusty, smelling like piss and weed. The neighbourhood is known for being quite a dangerous place, many druggies constantly searching for preys to assault and threaten in order to get money for one more high, one more pipe dream.

Jeno can't say he's one of them but he knows fairly many of them, some even being his past best friends from times when he still had them.

As a train in no known direction arrives, and Jeno finishes his third cigarette, he steps on the butt and hops on the train (though 'hopping' is a little bit of an exaggeration - Jeno can't remember the last time he had enough energy to "hop somewhere"). The smells inside aren't half as bad as on the station but he still scrunches his nose at the odour of sweat and exhaustion.

He goes through the outer corridor of the train and enters the sitting arrangements section - there he takes a seat by the window, just on the right, close to the entrance so that he can fleed whenever he has to.

The train takes off again and Jeno's head falls on the headrest as he sighs heavily. They pass by his apartment complex, he follows the passing buildings with his tired eyes. He wonders if he'll ever feel okay, or if he'll ever get off this train. Or where the hell it's even going, because Jeno didn't care enough to check where he's headed.

On the next station, a woman sits right opposite of him and when she sees him, she holds onto her cross necklace for life. Jeno lifts his head to meet her worried eyes and the second he does, she sained immediately, smiling to him sadly as if thinking that he's a lost cause but she's gonna try to pray for him anyway because it won't do her any harm.

Jeno closes his eyes and lowers his head again. He doesn't have the energy to deal with christian devotees.

His head somehow slides onto the wall, just by the window, as he gets lost in his dark thoughts and falls asleep at some point. He dreams of God, a bald man in his forties with a white beard. God tells him to get his shit together and move the fuck on.

When he wakes up, the cross woman is no longer here. He also notes that it's dawn already, the sky turning more grey-ish than black. He must have been asleep for quite a while.

He puts his head up as he gets up from his seat to get off the train, and as he does, for a fraction of a second, his eyes lock with fair, brown, orange almost irises, ones so beautifully warm and comforting he finds himself falling deeply in no time. His eyes hold so much hope and unspoken are-you-okays that Jeno almost stops in his tracks.

Almost, because as soon as their eyes meet, they also part, as Jeno enters the outer corridor of the train. He looks in the impromptu mirror he's chosen for himself - the dirty, scratched window. Here he sees what he knows and should have expected - sad, empty, hollow even... The grey eyes he's grown to know so well. He should have expected that but it still sends a pang of disappointment through his heart as his mind goes over the image of the warmth he just experienced, desperately holding onto the last bits of the memory.

As he gets off the train, he doesn't look back in hopes to see them again through the window. With every further step he takes, a part of the memory fades away from his conscious - first: the feeling of comfort, then the warmth, then again the piercing colour, and in the end, he also forgets the look on his face, once so inviting and soft, now just a pile of words he, ironically, used in his head to stop himself from forgetting the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy bday to me.


	2. blowing

The need for a cigarette is smashing him to the ground where he stands. He can't take even a step forward because he knows he will be entering a no-smoking zone, and he knows he _shouldn't_ be smoking so much in the first place. He sets his mind on quitting, starting from tomorrow.

He takes out a cigarette and lights it up with his free hand. The other one is holding onto a can of diet coke that's already gone flat from how he's been holding it without drinking for hours now.

As he sets the can down onto the ground, he knocks it over with his knuckles by accident (he's trying to prevent his cigarette from burning into the can and also falling onto the ground).

The night is loud, the air somehow stuffy and tense despite no-one being around him. He feels like he's surrounded with people, that's how he knows there's someone watching him. He doesn't try to lift up his head from where he's watching the can roll and spill onto the concrete stairs before his apartment complex.

Maybe with time, as you become a circus attraction for passersby, you gradually stop caring about who's watching you. The feeling of being watched, of not feeling safe in your own skin - it's all still here. Except Jeno doesn't give a flying fuck about whoever decided to take joy or entertainment in his misery this time.

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice is unfamiliar. Soft, a little high-pitched, and the accent the person speaks with is unfamiliar for Jeno too. He figures they're not really from around here.

His mind tells him exactly that, but his heart tells him that the voice is dripping with honey and fireplace warmth, and suddenly he guesses he might just have an idea who the person is, reminded of what he desperately didn't want to forget.

He finally lifts his gaze, but only just a little, seeing the person's feet - they're wearing black, worn converse and wide-legged jean pants.

He knows it's him but he can't believe it, so as he lifts his head upwards and looks at his face, his beautiful eyes warm as before, he can't stop himself from asking:

"Am I high? Is this a pipe dream?"

The boy tilts his head and points onto the cigarette in his hand.

"I'm pretty sure that's not weed. Did you do anything prior to now tonight?"

Jeno shudders as the warmth hits him, the entirety of this boy radiating so much safety and comfort that Jeno feels as if he's lying down in his childhood bed again with his mother tucking him in for the night.

He also can't seem to miss the hint of worry in the boy's voice.

"What's your name?"

"Renjun."

"Pretty. You're pretty," Jeno declares without the slightest tremble in his voice and he sees Renjun's eyebrows twitch upwards for the shortest fraction of a second.

Renjun doesn't say a word in reply, only looks at him as if he's judging Jeno's intentions, almost searching for any hints of his story on Jeno's face. But Jeno is so used to being in the spotlight, so used to hiding as much as he can that there's probably nothing Renjun can read from his hollow cheeks and dull eyes.

"Why are you sad?", he asks finally and Jeno shruggs.

"I'm not. Must be some delulu shit going on in your head."

"Okay. I guess you just don't want to tell a stranger what's been bothering you for years," Renjun smiles bitterly, but with no grudge of any sort. He just seems to understand, and the bitterness only tells Jeno one thing.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

Renjun sits down beside him, on the other side of Jeno where the diet coke hasn't reached yet, and looks at him from a much closer proximity.

"Can I have a drag?"

Jeno notices how Renjun's avoiding the question but doesn't comment on it in any way. Instead, he begins to move the cig into Renjun's direction but stops midway.

"No. Sorry. You're too soft to be smoking here with me like a slug," Jeno finalizes but Renjun furrows his eyebrows at him, going for the cigarette anyway.

Renjun places his hand on top of Jeno's and tries to twirl the cigarette away from his fingers into his own, and Jeno might be a little flustered but he still fights him - softly because he doesn't want to break the cig in the process (also, because it's Renjun).

The smaller boy, however, is very stubborn and when he sees he can't win with Jeno in the kind way, ge grabs his wrist and pulls it up to his face, leaning in to shorten the way. He locks eyes with Jeno as he takes a drag, the cigarette still in Jeno's hand as its owner inhales slowly to stop his hands from trembling.

"Are you happy now?", Jeno asks only half accusingly, voice trembling just a little, not enough for Renjun to notice.

Renjun smiles as he puffs out the air in Jeno's face, his hand never letting go of Jeno's wrist even as they finish the cigarette; together, sharing it and blowing the smoke in each other's faces every time as if it was some sort of a ritual, and their spirit just got tangled together forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you nasties thought blowing meant something else im SURE of it  
regardless please enjoy and leave a comment which chapter you liked best so far!!


	3. playground slides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for my friend markie!! you're the real hero i hope we find jeno and renjun photocards in the mfal albums 🥴

The next time Jeno sees Renjun, it's already full-on winter. The snow is swallowing his feet as he takes wobbly steps on the pavement, the alcohol running down his veins not helping him move forward in these difficult weather conditions.

The air is not chilly. It's fucking cold, freezing his eyebrows and snot and every limb Jeno owns. Jeno wonders if Renjun is cold too, wherever the hell he is right now.

The fact is, Jeno hasn't seen Renjun ever since their oddly sexual smoking session in front of his apartment complex, which now thinking about it seems really off for Jeno. How did Renjun find him? And why the hell would he even do that?? Jeno frowns as he keeps on walking through hoards of snow.

Nighttime is always the worst when it comes to winter since nobody gives enough fucks to plough the pavements and people only start with that in the morning, meaning that if the night is snowy (like this one) and someone (like Jeno) wants to go out on a walk, they will have to manage (somehow) on their owns.

So Jeno tries really hard to carry on with his journey, feet soaked already but what can he do when he's away from home and drunk and out in the open. He's swaying from side to side and as he passes by a flickering street lamp, his mind closes down and throws him into a dungeon.

He remembers the dark, muffled laughters and the piercing pain in his wrists and the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke. He remembers swaying like this, only then sitting instead of walking through snow, and the throbbing headache caused by the disgusting mix of cheap vodka and some no-name liqueur. He remembers how he stopped fighting at some point, finding comfort in the never ending pain and screams and what-nots.

Just as he's about to fall down on a bench, clearly no longer capable of walking on his own, he hears a scream, one so pained it sends chills down Jeno's spine. His mind flashes back to when he first heard real, fearful screams.

But he makes himself look for the source as it hits home in some way. He knows the voice. His heart knows before his mind does, and his hands start trembling at the thought, anger filling him immediately and sobering him up in a second.

(Or so Jeno thinks as he starts running thorugh the snow towards where he thinks he heard Renjun. If the adrenaline shot hasn't woken him up yet, the cold snow in his face and on his neck as he falls face-down onto the ground surely do so at once.)

He finds Renjun curled down behind a slide on an empty playground. His fists are in his hair, tugging so hard Jeno sees his knuckles have already gone white. His whole body is trembling, Jeno guesses more in fear than from the cold, and his clothes are drenched.

As he takes another step towards his hunched-up figure, Renjun lets out one more terrifying scream, this one going straight through Jeno's bones and into his heart.

"Renjun-ah... Renjun, please. It's me," he tries as he stands still, careful not to scare the boy any more than he already is. "Is there somebody here? Or something? What are you afraid of?"

Renjun doesn't answer but Jeno notices his fists loosen up the slightest, and he takes it as an invitation to take a step further.

"No, please," he rasps out, voice sore from the screaming. "Don't come. Please. Stat where you are, Jeno."

Jeno doesn't listen, but only a little - he takes a few steps towards the golden boy behind the slide, but he stays about a meter away from him, not trying to touch him or invade his personal bubble.

"You don't have to tell me. I guess you just don't want to tell a stranger what's been bothering you for years," Jeno says instead and even offers Renjun a sad smile despite Renjun not being able to see it. This is what he told Jeno the last time they saw each other.

Renjun's fists unclench completely and slowly slide down until they hang lifelessly by his sides. He sits down in the snow and starts crying silently, tears streaming down his face but his features remaining stoic, emotionless.

"Can I sit next to you? I have some cigarettes too if you want them," Jeno offers, pretending nothing's really happening. He knows from experience that this is the best he can do now, be there for Renjun without making a fuss out of his state.

Renjun doesn't answer but when Jeno does sit down, he doesn't protest either. Jeno hands him a cigarette which he accepts, looking straight ahead and not sparing him a glance. The taller boy is careful not to burn Renjun's hand as he lights both of their tabs, seeing that Renjun is not really paying attention to what he's doing.

Renjun is all swolen, red and broken, his eyes empty and cold, no longer comforting and soft like they used to be, but Jeno cannot seem to take his eyes away from him. Jeno wonders if this is what affection and love feel like. Tonight, with his voice hoarse, eyes dull and heart broken, Renjun looks the most beautiful for Jeno.

He knows he shouldn't, but when Renjun lowers his left hand after taking a drag, Jeno takes his fist in his own, takes out the cigarette and puts it into Renjun's right hand. Renjun looks at all of this without any emotion creeping onto his face, but Jeno knows he's got his attention, so he lifts his gaze and stares straight ahead as if nothing was happening.

Then, when Renjun looks at him, a hint of a puzzled expression on his face, Jeno takes his now empty left hand into his own and intertwines their fingers. It's cold, their butts and legs are soaked from sitting in the snow, and their noses are red from the freezing wind, but right here and right now, Jeno feels the warmth he saw in Renjun the first time their eyes met.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Renjun confesses and Jeno nods, still not looking at him, afraid he might never let go of this hand once he does.

"How did you find me the last time?"

"I didn't. I was just there and then I saw you. You looked so damn depressed and I wanted a smoke."

Jeno hums in acknowledgement.

"How did you find me tonight?"

Now Jeno turns to Renjun. The tears have stopped rolling down his cheeks but other than that, nothing's changed. His eyes are so empty and hopeless it makes Jeno's heart clench with unbearable sadness. The way he looks at Jeno is as if none of this even matters. As if Renjun had no hopes, no dreams for the future, no will to survive.

"I wish I could bring that warmth back into your eyes," Jeno whispers without ever moving his gaze away from Renjun's brown irises.

Renjun smiles sadly.

"You actually never saw real warmth in my eyes, Jeno. Once you learn how to pretend, you can fool even your own eyes into believing you're fine."

Jeno lowers his head and kisses Renjun, cigarettes forgotten and dropped into the snow. His lips are salty and wet and very, very cold but it's okay because regardless of all that, the kiss seems so sweet and gentle in Jeno's head that it's all alright. Jeno feels as if he's been waiting for this his entire life, his lips gliding slowly against Renjun's, and after a while, Renjun reciprocates the kiss, his trembling fingers creeping into Jeno's pockets (his left hand bringing Jeno's along as their fingers stay laced together), seeking warmth but also trying to bring the boy closer.

When they part for air, Renjun's eyelids flutter slightly before opening, and Jeno smiles at him so bitterly-softly-sadly that he thinks Renjun hardly notices (if at all).

"This doesn't look fake at all. Are you pretending now, or do you really feel something right now?", he asks, eyes scanning Renjun's face, searching for any hints of doubt.

Renjun lowers his head and takes his right hand out of Jeno's pocket to bring Jeno's cold hand into the warmth as well. Then, he lifts his eyes up to meet Jeno's intense gaze.

"Maybe you could do it again. To help me make sure it's not fake," Renjun whispers and there's no hint of playfulness in his voice or on his face.

Jeno understands. Renjun has been pretending to be alright for such a long time he doesn't even know if he's comfortable or happy now, or is it just his mind telling him he should.

So Jeno does what he's asked, and this time he kisses Renjun even softer than before, lips hardly touching, leaving tiny, slow pecks on Renjun's trembling lips until Renjun surges forward to connect them in a real kiss again, and Jeno knows Renjun is honestly happy now when he feels his smile against his own lips.


	4. knowledge is key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is NOT the last chapter please bear with me. also none of the chapters have been beta read please excuse repetitions and spelling mistakes i always write these on the train home from work and yeah. u can just imagine how dead i am 💀

Jeno knows but he wishes he didn't. Because now he can't look past the pain and hatred in Renjun's eyes, he can't reach the warmth he fell in love with. Now Renjun seems so false to him, like news that you once thought to be true but turned out to be just a piece of trash. Renjun is not trash, but the bitter taste on Jeno's tongue tells him there's something to this metaphor in the end.

Jeno knows and it's scary. Once he's holding Renjun's hand now, it all seems like he's holding a mannequin, not a living person.

It was March, the air was getting slightly warmer, almost as if it had been trying to follow Renjun and Jeno with their growing fondness and comfort they felt in the proximity of one another.

Renjun was drunk-- no, scratch that. He was fucking _wasted_, in a way reminding Jeno of that one night he kissed Renjun the first time. But Renjun wasn't soft and caring and didn't let go of his drunken state upon seeing Jeno (unlike what Jeno did that winter night). He stood in Jeno's doorstep after unceremoniously barging into his apartment, then grabbed a half-empty bottle of vodka from under his winter jacket, way too thick for the early spring temperatures, and took a swig while looking Jeno in the eye, his gaze never leaving him for even a second.

"You know fucking what, mister Lee Jeno?", he slurred and started to walk sloppily towards Jeno's shocked but mostly terrified figure. "Do you fucking know? I asked you a damn question."

Jeno shivered at the tone of his voice. "No. Please, tell me."

Jeno tried to reach for Renjun's shaky, wobbly figure but Renjun swatted his hands away from him.

"You. You were the fucking reason-- no! You /are/ the fucking reason I can't sleep at night. You destroyed me and I hate you."

Jeno sighs slowly. "No, you don't. And no, I didn't."

"You're right. You didn't. But you made me remember what destroyed me in the first place. And I do fucking hate you."

Renjun shifted his gaze from Jeno's eyes to his hands, and Jeno didn't really understand why at that moment. Later on, it turned out Renjun was looking for fists. He was waiting for Jeno to snap and to hit him. He was getting prepared.

"Then why are you here?", asked the Jeno who did not know.

Renjun stayed silent as he took more wobbly steps towards Jeno's living room, feet heavy as he slided on the floor, trying not to fall down.

He slumped onto the couch and reached under his jacket for what Jeno thought was the bottle of vodka he drank from earlier, but he quickly realised how wrong his assumption must have been as Renjun pulled out a gun and started to inspect it with his wild eyes.

"That was the gun he used," he whispered, seemingly more down to earth then than before (though his mind seemed to be racing anyway, so whether he was sober or not was not really helpful to Jeno).

Jeno took a step towards the couch and sat quietly on the edge of it, careful not to scare Renjun, not to break him out of his trance, scared of what would happen once he did.

"He took this fucking gun and pointed it at my forehead. Then, when it wasn't enough for him, he _pushed_ it against my head. I think I will always remember the way the cold metal felt on my forehead as he pushed me towards the wall. Pathetic, vulnerable, disgusting," Renjun lifted up his head to look at Jeno, indicating that he was still taking to him, not to himself, but what Jeno saw got imprinted in his brain for life, he thinks.

Renjun's eyes were just like when he first met him. Fair, brown, orange almost irises, ones so beautifully warm and comforting. His eyes held hope and unspoken are-you-okays, just like that one night on the train, but it now broke Jeno. It showed him that Renjun is all about façades, all about pretending to be okay but never really being so.

He started to question - had I ever made him happy? Had he ever felt something for me? Had he ever felt safe, wanted, comfortable with Jeno? Or had Jeno just kept thinking that he had helped him instead of actually having helped him?

Tears started to fall down Jeno's face and he lowered his head. From his peripheral vision he saw Renjun put the gun on the table and hide his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Jeno, but I'm so broken. I can't just be fixed with some I-love-yous and you're-gonna-be-okays," he made no move towards Jeno but he knew Renjun wanted to by the way his words were laced with broken, sad fondness.

Or so Jeno thought. Maybe it was all a lie too.

"I opened myself in front of you only to learn you don't give a damn," Renjun whispered and Jeno wanted desperately to scream it wasn't true but he couldn't. He couldn't get himself to reach out to Renjun and tell him he was there for him even though it might not help him.

"Renjun..."

"Forget it."

Renjun stood up and leaves, half-empty bottle of vodka still under his jacket but the gun left on the table like a souvenir for Jeno in hopes it would bring some sort of a reaction from him.

So here Jeno is. A very brief, blurry image of Renjun's past in his mind, a gun on his coffee table, and his mind a mess. He doesn't know what to do with himself and he's not sure he even wants to know because it seems like the more he knows, the more unhappy he becomes.


	5. ashtray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeno is scared but so is renjun. fate is a funny person sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for being patient with me!! im sorry this took so long but i was SO DAMN BUSY and also i didnt want to push it if i didnt feel it so this is probably like the fourth or fifth version of this chaoter i have written. enjoy!! PS i didnt even have time to reread this pls spare me

It takes Renjun seven months and twelve days to knock on Jeno's door again. Jeno didn't expect him to come ever again but he would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping. Every single day Jeno would replay the scene of their last goodbye in his head, and every single day it became less and less transparent and clear. Every day a new detail faded from his memory, first the smells and then the colours, and then slowly the feelings until all he was left with was "Renjun came to see me, he had a gun, he was so broken and then he screamed and left".

Days went by and Jeno found himself wondering if the whole truth would save him, or kill him. For now, he was stuck with the disgusting in-between of hints from Renjun and his own scenarios, each worse than the previous one. But one thing was for certain - Jeno couldn't stop thinking of Renjun's sad eyes and how quickly they flickered from so vulnerable to warm and inviting, just like he had seen the first time he met Renjun.

Realisation dawned on him on day seventy two of his Renjun-less life. Renjun was scared.

Renjun was scared to ever let anyone see how fragile he was because he was afraid someone would use that against him, just like that man in the past who used the gun against his head. Renjun was scared that his weakness will bring him suffering and give someone else power over him, and he was convinced it was true to the point his entire body believed he was strong and /okay/. His eyes didn't show any signs of what he'd been through because they believed there was nothing like that. That Renjun had always been just fine.

Then on day eighty one Jeno remembered that one night when they first kissed, when he found Renjun screaming and never asked why. He wondered if everything would have gone differently for him, for them, if he had asked. If he had any idea about the demons hidden so deeply in Renjun's heart he himself refused to acknowledge them. If he had found out about Renjun's past when he wasn't drunk and emotional and so, so tired of pretending to be fine... Maybe things really would have completely different for them. Jeno went to same spot he found Renjun that day but the snow had melted already, and Renjun was nowhere to be found, as expected. Jeno broke down pathetically in front of the slide, the first time ever since Renjun had left him crying in his own apartment, a cold gun on his coffee table.

Slowly but steadily, Jeno learnt how to live with his memories, how to live with Renjun just in his head. He never thought this to happen but he somehow forgot about his issues from pre-Renjun. The insomniac nights he spent wandering around the neighbourhood, or the feeling of overwhelming hopelessness, pushing him to overthink. Or maybe the problems never left him - he just let himself believe that they were now caused by the lack of a certain boy in his room, in his arms, in his life. Now that Jeno thinks about it, there had never been a period in his life when his insomnia let him go. Sometimes Renjun played a good distraction from the fact that he was exhausted, and then when he left, Jeno found himself distracted by the memory of him.

On day one hundred and fifty nine, Jeno thought he was really going crazy. The bed seemed so cold and lonely, again, and he couldn't stand the flickering lamp behind his window. There was a gun on his coffee table, still lying in the same place where the boy left it, now coated with dust because Jeno was too afraid to move it. But it never left his head. He thought that once he took it in his hands, he would imprint himself in the gun, and then in Renjun's worst nightmares. He was not the person who wound Renjun, but he knew that if he ever touched this one gun, even to move it away from the middle of his living room, he would become just like that man. Like Renjun's past didn't matter, like it could be moved away, swept under the rug. But Jeno left the gun there, on his table, where anyone could see it (not like Jeno had any visitors nowadays; or ever, as a matter of fact). It was there to remind him of Renjun's eyes, hurt but beautiful, just like his soul. He could never mend him, but he didn't intend to. Jeno just wanted to be there for Renjun, to tell him it was okay to feel what he felt, to be broken. Jeno wanted to tell him that he didn't /have/ to be fixed at all, that he could just stay in pieces his entire life and that it would be all okay with Jeno, as long as he was by his side. The gun laid right there more for Renjun than for Jeno - because Jeno knew one day, maybe in a week or maybe in ten years, Renjun would come back and he would see it right where he left it.

Close to day two hundred without Renjun, Jeno felt he missed him the most. He wanted to hold his hand and talk about everything and nothing, and then get mad at a passing car for being too loud and muting Renjun's perfect voice. And then share a cigarette with him like he never left, like they were both going to be okay, broken but okay. He left his house and started roaming around the neighbourhood for hours before his feet took him to the train station and had him hop on a random train that stopped at his station. Jeno didn't believe in fate or signs from the universe but something unsettling crept into his stomach when he realised it was the same train on which he had met Renjun, except this time it was going in the completely opposite direction.

Then one day, seven months and twelve days later, Jeno is lying restless in his bed. It's at times like this that he hates his distance from the city and the main street - there's nothing to distract him from his aching heart and galloping thoughts. Only silence welcomes him as he stands up to open the window. It's four in the morning.

Jeno puts a hand on his stomach as the other one runs through his hair, and focuses his eyes on what he thinks is a fox or a stray dog. The animal swiftly rummages through a bush in search for a prey - a mouse or a mole - but to no avail. Jeno moves away from the window.

He moves to the living room instead and plops down onto the couch, looking at the sad gun in the middle of the table. He lets out a frustrated grown as he realises... He's been a fool to think Renjun would ever come back. To keep this thing in his living space to remind (and hurt) him everyday, to have him remember what should be long forgotten. But Jeno can't bring himself to move the object anyway.

His thoughts run back to when he used to hang out with the druggies, when one of them was his best friend and Jeno tried his stuff once. He never did it again, and probably never will, but it did give him a temporary peace of heart, even if it was so fragile and ephemeral it was gone the second Jeno got off the high. Jeno wonders how his friend is doing now. Or if he's alive, for a fact.

The knock on the door does not surprise him but it's not expected either. Jeno stays on the couch, knowing that there's only one person who would be knocking at this hour, or to his door in general, and he knows the person will let themselves in once not met with any answer.

Jeno stays where he was as Renjun enters his apartment and starts taking off his leather jacket. It smells like cigarettes and sorrow, and Jeno thinks he couldn't relate more to any piece of clothing ever.

"Aren't you cold? It's fucking freezing in here," Renjun says. Jeno is, in fact, shivering, but it has nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He takes in the boy in front of him. Golden hair and pretty, dangling earrings, and a shirt way too big for his petite body, and the god damn leather jacket that's now resting proudly on Jeno's armchair. Renjun's eyes are small and swollen, like all he has been doing since that day was cry and cry, and then cry some more. Jeno wonders if that's the case but is too scared to ask.

They stay in silence, Renjun walking around Jeno's living room, supposedly taking in the interior of the living space, maybe trying to spot things that have changed, but Jeno notices by the way his eyes flicker somewhat nervously that what he's doing is just to keep his eyes anywhere but on the gun on the table. Jeno sits on the couch, warily observing Renjun's every move, until he can't stand the silence anymore.

"I missed you," he wants to say but his voice comes out raspy and cracks by the end of the sentence. He hasn't spoken to anyone in a long time, so he's not too surprised that his voice fails him.

Renjun turns to him but doesn't look him in the eye when he smiles bitterly, not responding to Jeno's confession. He then goes back to scanning the room like it was the most essential thing Renjun could do now.

It's when his back is turnt to Jeno, his eyes on the small ashtray in the far end of the room when Renjun speaks up about what Jeno knows he came here for.

"I never intended to take it all out on you. I hope you know it," his voice is barely a whisper but Jeno feels like he's screaming. His every word drills its way into Jeno's brain until he can't think at all. His head is empty but full of thoughts at the same time. A car passes by his window with a muffled engine roar, and Renjun turns around to see Jeno.

Silence fills the room again as they stare at each other with so much to say yet so little words to express it. Jeno stands up but Renjun takes a step back, so he takes his cue and sits back down. Renjun needs the space if he's to open up to Jeno. He's willing to do it, Jeno knows, so he obeys what Jeno thinks Renjun wants and waits patiently. There's faint clock ticking coming from his kitchen, and Jeno's afraid that if he shifts too loudly, Renjun will run away, his breath hitches at the thought and he does his best to stay still.

"He used to say he loved me. He held my hand and took me to art exhibitions, and then when we were done, he took me home and loved me like I was the only boy in the world. But I knew I was not because every time he held me, it felt different. Every time he hugged me, he smelled different. My favourite one was honey, because I knew it was me. But sometimes he smelled nothing like honey. He was all musk, or roses, or citruses, or wood. The thought crushed me every time I thought about it but I never let it get to me because after all, none of the smells repeated. In the end, it was always me. He always came back to me," Renjun speaks so emotionlessly and mechanically that Jeno suspects he took the seven months and twelve days to write down an entire scenario, a story to learn by heart and recite when the day came.

"One day I just couldn't take it anymore - just... life in general. You know those days when you feel like everything is just... Not right. Like someone forced two puzzles together but the picture didn't match - that's what I felt that day. I don't think it was just because he cheated on me, repeatedly, but I also think that it was of big influence," the way Renjun speaks sends chills down Jeno's spine. His face is like a stone, and he's not moving at all. He really is reciting what he learnt by heart. Jeno wants so desperately to move, to take him in his arms, to hold him close. He knows he can't. A neighbour goes down the staircase, sending echoed footsteps into the tense air of Jeno's living room.

"When he came to my place and saw me crying, he asked me what was wrong. I said that it was nothing, that it was just a bad day and he shouldn't worry but he got so angry... He started throwing things around saying he's so tired of everything, that every single day he struggled so much but I never appreciated what he gave me, that I was a worthless whore and I didn't even deserve to be wrecked by him. Then he hit me, twice, and left the apartment."

Jeno feels his heart and fists clench at Renjun's words. He can't stop himself any longer and stands up to approach Renjun slowly, not touching him, not invading his private space, just being there for him.

Jeno promises himself he will tell Renjun everything he has come up with when they were away from each other, he will tell him that he doesn't have to be fixed, that he will never demand anything of him, that he understands, but not now. Now Renjun has to get this out of him, and what Jeno will do about it will have to wait a few days. 

Then Jeno remembers how sad Renjun was the last time when Jeno silently listened to his sobs and vents, and he decides against his reason to softly take his shaky figure into the embrace of his just as shaky arms. He feels Renjun take a slow breath before he continues.

"I stopped crying because I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like the tears were what brought me all of that, so I should stop them and stay strong. I pretended he never hit me and stayed by his side, and I think he decided to do that too, but I knew something changed within him when I saw his eyes for the first time after he did that to me. He despised me but tried very hard not to. I thought that he maybe felt guilty for treating me the way he did, but I knew I was also disgusting and weak and ungrateful, so I thought he was right to resent me too. Nevertheless... Ever since that day, my off-days when everything seemed to go wrong just kept on appearing more and more often, and it was getting harder and harder to keep that all inside of me. Some days I would break and cry and he would hit me again and every time that happened, a little bit of this pity I used to see in his eyes disappeared, until one day he hated me with all he had and all he was, and he no longer resisted when he felt the urge to hit me. But I thought I deserved it, and so I let him do it. Slowly, he killed my soul while breaking my body. Then the day he finally left me came along, and he did it just how you might imagine it - he wanted to kill me, the gun was against my forehead but I never once let my eyes betray how scared and broken I felt. So he just pushed me to the wall, then dropped the damn gun to the floor and left. I have never seen him again and I don't think I could because every night he comes in my dreams and turns them into nightmares. Sometimes when I pass by somewhere and hear a voice similar to his, I get panic attacks and find it hard to breathe. But all this time, I managed to force myself to hide what I felt from others in fear of it all happening to me again. I know that I'm broken, that he broke me, but I never let it out. I never let anyone notice."

Jeno shifts uncomfortably because for some reason it feels like Renjun is talking to himself more than to Jeno, and for that same reason, Jeno feels like he's eavesdropping on his secret conversation. But Renjun's fists are holding Jeno's shirt tightly as he carries on, and he knows that Renjun wants him to listen, so he gulps down any fear that arises in his mouth as a bitter taste, and kisses his temple so slightly for Renjun to continue.

"The first time someone saw me going through... this, it was you. By that slide. I thought I heard him speaking, and I thought I even heard my name spoken by that voice, and my body shut down completely. I couldn't move, all I could do was scream and cry until you came and everything went quiet, it was just you and your smile and your warm hands and I felt maybe, just maybe you will not be like him. But sometimes I had nightmares, just like the ones I had with him but you were the one doing all this. You held the gun, Jeno. You were the one who did that. And I got so afraid I got wasted until all I could see was the image of you pressing me against the wall with that fucking gun. It was the only way to have my heart let go for just enough time for my brain to leave you. But it still hurt so bad. I couldn't stand being so far away from you, but I was also so afraid of it all becoming real again... So I forced myself to stay away."

Jeno can't stop himself from asking: "Then why are you here now?"

Renjun smiles bitterly again, it's like he knows the answer but hates it.

Jeno thinks he knows it too.


End file.
